Losing You in the Midst of War
by Vains
Summary: How do you live with nothing to live for? When the one thing you fought so hard to protect is murdered in front of your very eyes? How do you survive when the very essence of your being is stripped away from you? What would you do after being locked away in hell? To never see the light of day again, always regret the turn of events. Rated T for mild swearing and content. Yaoi


Hey guys, this is my new story that I've been pondering on writing or not. This, I hope, is going to be a long one and I hope you guys can stay for the full ride :D

Sorry for the horrible title and summary, I am not good at these things. Sat in front of my computer for hours thinking of a title and summary and this is what I got. I just gave up on the title all together if it doesn't make sense now I don't think it will later on. Haha no it will, I think...

Here is the full summary since they never give any space to do this thing

 **Summary _:_ _How do you live with nothing to live for? When the one thing you fought so hard to protect is murdered in front of your very eyes? How do you survive when the very essence of your being is stripped away from you? What would you do after being locked away in hell? To never see the light of day again, always regret the turn of events. After being sentenced and locked away Ichigo thinks back to the times when he was the happiest, those times that also got him to where he was now. He never regretted saving the man, never regretted falling in love, he just wished he could have a second chance to amend his mistakes. Rated T for mild swearing and content. Yaoi pairing Grimmjow x Ichigo. Romance, Angst, Adventure, ad hurt/comfort._**

Anyway enjoy the story, I love the plot, I hope you do too.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach

* * *

There was only pitch black darkness in the small cell. Night had fallen and all you could see were the images of the clacking feet of the prison guard as he made his rounds through the cell. He carried a small lamp, not enough to brighten the place but enough to see where he went and in specific cells. This man did not enjoy his job, he believed there to be no glory in taking care of prisoners, he thought them to be worthless trash that should be eradicated as soon as they were proven guilty.

He didn't think himself to be a cruel person when he abused of this so called "trash". The man thought it to be in his right to get a kick of torturing these people because they had done something wrong at one point or another.

This short bulky man that carried the dim lighting stopped at a cell, pointing his candle lamp inside where a man laid on his side, looking towards the wall and murmuring to himself.

"Hey!" The guard called as he tapped on the bars making loud enough noise that echoed in the whole place.

"Here we go." He heard someone whisper from the back though he didn't give enough attention to them as a wicked smile spread on his face thinking of the verbal onslaught he was about to begin.

"Hey you piece of trash. Whatcha doin' over there, huh? Talking to yerself again? Fuckin' nut." He yelled as a booming laughter filled the air. It was enough to make a person sick.

The man on the bed ignored him, keeping his routine without giving the guard even a look to regard his existence.

The mans voice calmed as he noticed he got no reaction from the man. "Fucking think yah can ignore me? Hey bastard! I'm talking to yah!" He said irritation thick in his voice. "Yer just a psycho that's locked up 'cuz yah couldn't live with yerself." He grabbed onto the bars angrily and shook them in attempt to rattle the prisoner. By this time all convicts in close range were close to their bars ready for the onslaught to begin.

They weren't wary of the prison guard for his sharp hurtful words, they were afraid of what he did when he wasn't enjoying himself by verbally attacking them. He was, in their eyes, a cruel weak bastard that if they had the chance they would kill him in a excruciatingly painful way.

The guard ceased his shaking, once again that disgusting and vile grin plastered on his face again as he thought of the most effective way to get a reaction.

This prison was created for the criminally insane and those who betrayed the order. This specific space was one of the lower floors for those who would be locked up forever, no way of ever getting out. One of the most secure levels of this underground prison.

Only two guards were ever needed to watch over the inmates, they were the only ones on that floor who could still use their reiatsu to control those inmates who got out of control. This power came in the form of energy that transferred through the chains they wore specifically made for this form of punishment. "Hado 11" He thrust his hand toward the chain that connected a cell bar and the leg of the man still in his own world as he called out the incantation. Electricity ran through the chain and reached the mans leg traveling up his body, through every nerve in him. He screamed feeling the pain rush through his body and make him convulse. The malicious man laughed maniacally as he saw the man suffer, "paying attention now? How do you like this you sick bastard?" He yelled more as he increased the power of his invocation making the victim foam at the mouth. His body shook uncontrollably and his worn out straw mattress shook over the square shaped boulder that formed his bed. "Yeah suffer you trash, just like those people you killed suffered. You probably get off on thinking about it. Is that what you were doin' beating yer meat while yah thought of how you killed all those women?" He increased the potency of his punishment with every sentence as his voice also raised. "Are you fucking listening to me? Answer me you goddamn piece of shit!"

"Leave him alone you bastard!" From the far end cell a man held on to the bars tightly as he yelled in the abused man's defense.

The guard stopped his actions making the man on the bed seize all movement leaving a limp unconscious body that spasm every few seconds, the electricity still running through it.

The cruel man turned on his heels walking down to the last cell and stopping in front of the frail malnourished man still holding on to the rails with enough grip to lose all color on his light knuckles.

"The fuck did you just say homo?" The man bared his teeth angrily as spit came out through his gritted teeth.

"You call us sick but you are the one enjoying yourself while you torture out of mere pleasure. If anyone belongs in this hell hole, it's you." He growled as he stared daggers into the man in front of him, sick of all the mistreatment. Even though he knew that riling the man was just going to make things worse for him he couldn't just sit there and do nothing.

He bared his teeth again as he named the kido enchantment forcing the electric current through the man's body making him fall to the ground in agonizing pain as every nerve in him ran that high current through his body. The guard yelled more slander as he increased the potency and laughed maniacally. The victim convulsed on the ground his body not being able to bear the burning sensation that ran through his veins as if his entire body was on fire.

Even though used in the wrong way this incantation was made for prisoners so they could in a way repent for their actions that had brought them there. It made them wish they could turn back time, change their past. This is what they all wished as they lived everyday through that hell they were forced to live in. That floor buried deep in the confinements of the central city where they were to be kept locked forever barely two meals a day and nothing to do but look at the three walls around them and through the bars at the other side towards the other soul dead inmates that kept each other barely sane. These were the types of humans that were forgotten, scorned by the public for the acclaimed horrific deeds that had sealed them away, never to be seen again. As far as anyone knew they were already dead.

Which is what this particular person fought with as the pain that pooled over him slowly faded away leaving this burnt electrifying sensation in his system.

His mind lost connection with the outside world as he faded into unconsciousness only feeling the tingling pain still lingering within his system. The man dreamt of those moments that were truly the best ones in his entire life. Those moments that led him to the hell he was living in now.

His thoughts trailed back to the first time he laid eyes on the wild man. How his story began tragically.

* * *

 ** _/5 years ago/_**

Heavy drops of snow fell from the sky and draped the blood covered land that had been destroyed by the latest battle between the two warring countries. There was no sign of life just thousands of bodies laid on the destroyed land as they had fallen in war. The snow slowly covered mangled bodies staining them with a dark crimson color as they fused with the already soiled shards.

One man walked through the field as he looked for any sign of life, anyone that had survived such a grand battle. He searched for hours the dark sky turning white as more and more snow fell. It covered the bodies leaving many buried beneath it. The temperature was below zero, freezing the pools of crimson onto the damaged land creating muddy red ice.

"Is there anyone alive?" He yelled even though he had already lost hope to find anyone, anything living in this burial.

He breathed in shakily feeling the effects of hours of nonstop searching. Even with the thick hooded fur coat and heavy and patted slacks he wore he could still feel the cold breeze slashing at his body and rattling his bones. He called out once more feeling his body had reached its limits. He turned resigning the search, ready to head towards his horse who was patiently waiting for him near the forest entrance to the massive clearing grave.

A hand wrapped around his leg as he was about to move, making him gasp as he stopped abruptly and look back at the body on the ground. The man was half buried in crimson colored snow, matching the rest of the bodies in the grave.

The hooded man turned, carefully removing the wrapped fingers from his ankle and moving to crouch next to the injured man.

He slowly lifted his fingers and felt against the others throat, checking for any vital signs. He felt a very feint thump on his finger and whistled for his horse to come to him.

The horse galloped in the dead of the night following the sound of the whistling and appearing before its master. Said man pulled the half frozen but very alive man from the floor, slumping him on the horse carefully and getting on behind him. With a simple call and urge the horse was moving already knowing its way.

They entered the thick forest, leaving the open graveyard behind them as they galloped through the night, the horse didn't need to see to know which way it was going, already memorized its way through the dense woodland. This was the fifth night the hooded man had gone through the fields, looking for any sign of life that might have been left over from the tragedy.

He felt shocked mostly when he felt life inside this man, the moment he had given up all hope is when he found that one ray of light that changed it all.

He urged the horse to go faster, feeling that the man in front of him was slowly slipping away. He wanted to help, if not all, at least one survive the ruins of war.

The horse made its last twist through the forest, already having ridden far into it, making elaborate turns and twists that may confuse just about anyone if they didn't know the wooded area through and through. They reached a small hut that was made on the inside of a grandfather tree. It was surrounded by pasture and more trees that loomed over, just as tall as the house tree itself, but not nearly as massive.

It was still snowing just as badly as before but it barely registered as the leaves that loomed over stopped the blizzard from making much affect all the way on the bottom.

The man hopped off the horse, giving it an encouraging pat on the back and then lifting the larger man from the horse and carrying him inside.

The hut was dark with a slight mildew scent coming off of it. The ground was made of bark from the tree covered with carpets of fur. The straw bed was made close to the pot in the middle of the room, where a small fire was dying out. When the man looked at the fire he felt as if represented the weak life force the man he carried over to the bed held.

He laid him down and took off his hood letting out his bright orange hair that made the dark inside just a tad brighter.

He quickly added wood that was piled next to the door into the pit making sure they lit, enlarging the almost dead fire, the hut becoming a bit warmer as the heat concentrated inside.

He quickly began working on the soldier carefully ripping off his shirt and examining the body.

The bright haired man gasped as he saw the wounds, gashes and cuts ran through his body. His arm had been severed and he had a large stab that cut through to the other side of his body. For him to be alive in such conditions was nothing short of a miracle. It amazed the man sitting beside him as he inspected the man's body for more wounds, he should have been dead, yet there he was, heart beating slowly, pulse still running through his veins, short from being dead but still alive.

The man cleaned the wounds quickly, noticing as they unfroze and began bleeding again. He wrapped them placing medicinal herbs in the wraps before sealing them. He went on to feed the man a mixture of the medicinal herbs with water, making it easier to ingest.

Truthfully he didn't know much about healing the wounded, only the basics and was at a loss when the conditions of the man didn't improve much after waiting some time.

He got up and moved to the small table on the other side of the room where he kept his writing equipment. He jot something down quickly and wrapped it, placing it inside a small round package. The man walked out and placed the tube in the backpack on the horse, hoping the message would be delivered on time.

"Go deliver this package to Orihime, quickly." He spoke to the horse and gave it a slap on the back earning a neigh as it galloped away the same way it had come. He stretched, feeling out his tired body that had received little to no sleep in the past few days post the war. He walked back in to the hut looking over to the man on the bed. The herbs seemed o have finally taken some effect as some of the color on the patients face had come back and small gasps of air entered his body. He was shivering but thick drops of swear covered his face. The bright haired man walked back out and filled a bowl with cold water from the small river that ran through the small opening and under the tree house. He went back in and set the bowl on the ground next to the bed where he dipped a rag in and wet it just enough to begin cleaning the body of the sick man on the bed.

He hadn't truly seen the man he was taking care of until that moment. Hadn't noticed the toned strong body and the long limbs, even though one had been severed from his body. He didn't see until he began cleaning his face the long blue lashes and strong jaw, the sky blue locks that were almost glistening even as he laid there half a foot in the grave, the perfect round lips that were a sickly bluish color from the cold. The man was indeed handsome, more beautiful than anything he had seen before. His face heated as he realized what he was thinking, embarrassed he finished quickly, avoiding lingering on one spot for too long, or losing himself as he passed the rag over the strong toned chest.

He kept himself busy around the house, trying to forget that moment of loss by doing the random chores that were needed to do and from time to time checking back on the man, changing the bandages or the cloth on his head.

More hours went buy and he hadn't notice he had dozed off at some point until he heard the neigh of the familiar horse and someone's footsteps as they mounted off the horse. He got up walking to the door, relieved that she had finally arrived.

"Orihime" he called out to her as she walked towards the small house. She was a tall woman with dark orange locks and a kind young girl face that didn't match her body.

"Ichigo, I read your message and came as fast as I could." She said worriedly at the man who stood out of the way to let her inside. "You say he's still alive? After all these days?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she examined the man's body. She could not believe he was still alive with such wounds after days of the war ending.

"I was surprised as well" Ichigo spoke sitting down on the chair in front of the small desk table.

"This is nothing short of a miracle." She studied him more, the wounds on his body and the severed arm that should have killed him from blood loss. Not only was he able to live through such a grueling war but the days spent outside on a field with freezing temperatures was what made the whole ordeal even more implausible to her.

"Can you do something for him?" She turned and nodded to Ichigo, kneeling down next to the sickly man. She breathed and put her hands forward thinking of all the damaged parts on the man's body. Thinking of his beating heart and the pulse that ran through his veins. The man had seen this power of hers many times, but every time he was more amazed by what he saw under the orange glow she conjured.

He saw how the wound on his abdomen close as if it was never there and the arm that had been severed was returning, forming again tendril to tendril as if it were going back in time and never had left the man's body. The gashes and other deformities that were on his body disappeared as if they had never been placed.

It was a strong power to say the least, the ability to take someone back in time before they had received a wound or sickness, make them into what they were before. She was the only person in the world with that power, yet no one except for him knew about it.

The man's breathing steadied as his body went back to a time when he hadn't been injured in the midst of war. Back to days when he hadn't been scarred by the tragedies that conflict brought, days where he wasn't a pawn for those in power to use to resolve their differences.

"He should be alright now." She spoke, turning to the young man. "He just needs a couple of days to rest and he should be as if he hadn't been in war to begin with." She gave the man a worried look, wanting to say something but holding back.

"What is it?"

"W-well what if he is our enemy?" She asked wary of the man beside her.

"He is. He was wearing the enemies armor." Ichigo sighed not really wanting to have the inevitable conversation that was about to break out.

"Then why would you save him? You know that if they find out they'll pin you as a traitor." Her voice was a high pitched cry as she spoke her worries to the other man. She turned to him tears building in her eyes as she held tightly to her dress. "I-I just don't want you to get hurt." She said, her voice only a whisper.

Ichigo sighed, understanding her uncertainty. It was well placed, if he got caught helping members of the opposing kingdom, they would most likely hang him in front of the mass, labeled as a traitor to the Soul Kingdom, or worse for the role he played in the struggle. Yet he knew he couldn't just do nothing, these soldiers died for their kingdom, not really sure what they were fighting for, or if the cause benefited the greater good what so ever.

"He was the only one alive." He began explaining a small sigh escaping his lips again. "Of the thousands of men who were sent and left to die he was the only one who survived. I don't care who he fights for. I have to help him." He explained some of his emotions getting the better of him. The guilt that consumed him and the anger that war brought him tore him apart.

"I-I understand, Ichigo. I just wish I was as strong as you were." She spoke quietly, looking back at the man on the bed, sadness filling inside of her. She understood the pain and agony the bloodshed brought to the young man. The fact he had no choice in the matter, that he had to hurt others to protect those he loved, the pain of choosing tore him to pieces. She understood that this was his way of coping with his sins, with the guilt that crushed at him every waking moment.

He didn't respond, looking over to the man as well. The room was quiet as they stared at the sleeping body breathing in deeply, an anguished look on his face as nightmares of past events clouded his dreams.

"Please get some rest Ichigo, you look exhausted." The girl spoke after some time, a worried look and a small sigh escaping her lips. She herself had worn out as her healing drained her every time she used it. He thanked her and walked her to the door leading her to his horse and watching them ride away as the forest darkened around him.

Night had fallen yet again and he truly did feel exhausted from the long hours of searching for any live human and the hours spent caring for the man. He had gone a day without any food or sleep. He yawned spreading out a thin cloth on an open spot in the room and laying down, quickly dozing off into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

"What the hell?" Ichigo woke up to the sound of surprised amazement that came from the man on his bed. He looked up to see just that, an amazed look on the face of the blue haired man as he studied his body for the loss of his wounds.

Ichigo stood from his sheet and the man turned over to look at him with mirroring surprise on his features.

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Okay so how was it for the first chapter? Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know! I am going based on reviews and alerts, I wan to know if this is worth keeping up and losing countless hours of sleep for.

Anyway, sorry for the slight cliffhanger, but I felt it was a good place to stop.

Anyway don't forget to review and share your thoughts! I would really appreciate it, and I hope you guys liked the first chapter :)


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